Chapter 1 Parenthood #6
Then lower. And lower.
He literally squeezes my ass.
I lift my head. He looks up at me. "Oops," he says, grinning, and kisses my cheek. I drop back down on him and exhale right into his neck.
He smells so nice I could cry. His hand's still down there. I shift, pretending this is still casual, still innocent, still two tired, temporary dads cuddling.
But he arches his hips up into mine and lets out this soft breath. That noise. That noise will KILL my ass.
"Hey," Noah whispers.
"What."
I already know. But I make him say it. He brushes my hair back with his fingers. "Well… Antonio's asleep… " His thigh presses up against me. "You're hard… I'm hard… "
I stare at the ceiling.
No. I'm a respectable man. I wear button-downs. I have a briefcase. I'm a lawyer. We're co-parenting a literal toddler.
But also. I'm a man. With a sex drive.
And a hot tattoo artist under me begging for it.
People have sex. Parents have sex. Parents need sex.
That's... science. I smile. Kiss him deep. Slide my palm up to his neck while our mouths work like we haven't kissed in weeks. Noah giggles.
I grab the blanket and pull it up over both of us. "We are going to the living room in two. Pull my hair if he wakes up," I whisper in his ear.
Then I disappear under the covers.
My hand finds his waistband by muscle memory. I drag his pants down just enough. I can't see shit. But I don't need to. I know his body more than I know mine, at this point.
My hand wraps around his dick. I lick my lips. And then I go down on him, ready to eat his soul. I move slowly, trying not to make a sound. My throat literally protests.
He's too big to be polite about it, but to be honest, I don't care. I want it badly. I've been starving all day and this is dinner.
His fingers thread into my hair but they don't pull. He's just palming the back of my head like he’s saying 'please, don't stop'.
I don't. What am I, stupid?
I pull off a bit, stroke him with my hand and kiss the head of his dick, then drop a kiss to his thigh. He twitches.
"Fuck," he breathes. I don't reply.
I spit a little, let it run down, then suck it back up.
Try to swallow more this time. Try to not gag. I fail. But I keep going. My head goes up and down. I breathe through my nose and he pets me like a good fucking dog.
I love his dick. It's just hot. Like objectively. Sometimes I don't even go down on him proper. I just look at it. Talk to it. Call it good boy. Tell it it's mine. It is mine.
He tastes so good and he feels even better.
Don't talk to me. I'd write poems about this dick if I wasn't so busy swallowing it. My hands are locked around his thighs to hold him steady, and I'm moaning low in my throat like that's gonna help me take it deeper. I can't lie, it... kind of does.
Then he tugs my hair. I freeze. My head shoots up from under the blanket.
"Shit—shit, sorry. False alarm. I didn't mean to. You're just good." I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, smirk creeping in. "Yeah. I know."
He looks dazed. Fucked out and still fully clothed. I shove the blanket off and stand.
"Come on," I say. "Couch. Now."
He obeys instantly. "You're so fucking hot when you're this horny," he whispers while laughing.
I glance back over my shoulder while pushing him onto the couch. "I'm always like this."
"Horny lawyer. You're my dream." I crawl into his lap with my knees on either side of him, and my hands on his shoulders. "Yeah? Well, I'm the dream of the innocent."
Then I grab his chin and make him look me in the eye. "And the worst nightmare of the guilty."
His mouth falls open. Stays there. "I'm very guilty," he says. "Like... horrifyingly guilty. I have so many dirty thoughts about you I think it's actually criminal."
I push him back. "Then I guess we'll have to settle this in court."
He smiles. "What's the sentence?"
I grin against his mouth. "Life," I whisper. "No parole."
He whispers to my ear. "Go close the door."
You do not have to tell me twice.
The second I close the bedroom's door, I'm already rolling my neck like I'm getting into a bar fight. I walk back slowly. Smiling.
"You look like you just won the case of the century," he says, sprawled on the couch.
I shrug. "Maybe I did."
"Was I the defendant?"
I climb over him, pinning him down with my thighs. "You were guilty as hell."
He laughs through his nose. "Oh. Guilty of what?"
I dip in close, mouth by his ear. "Premeditated filth. Repeated offenses. Lewd intent."
"You forgot 'assault with a deadly weapon,'" he murmurs while kissing my neck. I bite his jaw for that one. "Nah, that's me."
His hands are under my shirt now. "You're hot when you talk legal, Marco."
"You're hot 24/7."
He grins like that turned him on more than anything. Grabs my ass once. Squeezes. "Your Honor, this man's trying to kill me."
"Good." I grab his jaw, turn his face up to mine. "Then die slow—"
His tongue's already in my mouth before I finish the sentence. I grind down. He's rock solid. He reaches for the drawer, pulling out the lube and tossing it on the couch. I push his shirt up and he bites down on my collarbone.
"You're probably gonna have bruises by the time I'm done," he whispers.
"Cross-examine me, daddy."
He gasps. "Did you just—"
"Yeah," I grin. "And you liked it. You just twitched." I shove him back down and kiss him hard. He laughs into it. My pants are gone now, and he throws the blanket over my waist to cover me. He moans.
"Keep it down," I whisper.
"Can't help it," he breathes. "You've got me cuffed without cuffs."
He's got two slicked fingers in me now. For one full fucking minute. "That's enough," I say. I slide down, grab his dick in my hand and line myself up.
God, I could talk about this dick for hours. I could write a thesis on how much I adore it. But instead, I'll just sit on it.
And show him.
His smirk twitches. "Marco—"
Nope. I cover his mouth with my palm, lock eyes with him, and sit down on his dick.
Slow. All the way. He twitches, moans into my hand, and his head falls back. "Fuck," he chokes. "You're tight."
"No shit," I snap. "What'd you think, this was community property?" He's gripping my hips now, but I'm riding at my pace. "You like that?" I ask.
He nods, already losing it.
I slap his chest. "Say it."
"Yeah, fuck, Marco, I love it—"
"You better."
His dick's buried so deep I feel it in my goddamn ribs. I'm literally sitting on him. Both my palms are on his shoulders. I'm riding him slowly, like I got all night.
"Be quiet," I whisper against his jaw, barely holding in a moan myself. Noah's eyes roll back a bit. "I'm fucking trying."
I smirk. Liar. I grip his shoulders harder and move up, down, forward, back. "We're so bad for this," he whispers, guilty.
"You want me to stop then?" I ask innocently, while my hips are still grinding in lazy little circles. "No—please, no," he chokes out, and that's all I need. I grin. God, I love riding him.
It's like a reward after a really long day. And the fact I gotta stay quiet makes me even fucking hornier. He grabs my ass with both hands and moves it up and down exactly how he wants it.
"You close?" I whisper.
He nods fast, mouth half-open, begging me with his whole fucking face. I bite his lower lip. Both his hands fly up to my hair, tugging, and making a mess of me.
I'm gonna cum. Fuck. "We finishing together?" I choke out while I'm holding on for dear life.
"You already know," he breathes, and crashes his lips against mine just as I break. My whole body jerks. I spill all over him. I fucking see stars. How is this even legal?
Thick ropes of my cum are hitting his abs, painting his tattoos in white. I'm literally gasping like I've just had an exorcism and liked it. I slam my palm over my mouth to muffle the scream.
His hands dig into my hips, he buries his head in my neck as he finishes inside me. Deep.
His hips jerk up into mine, stuffing me.
The bastard is fucking smiling while I'm still convulsing around him. I kiss him hard, and when we break, I fall on his chest, absolutely wrecked. "Oh my god," I wheeze. "We're insane." "We're perfect," he says. "So fucking worth it."
"Mhm," I hum.
"Smooth as hell."
I start laughing. I can't stop laughing. I think I love him so much it's actually making me sick.
…
We're both showered, happy, and exhausted. Now we're lying on the floor, literally, on the damn floor, just staring at the ceiling.
Noah's got his hands behind his head.
I've got mine resting on my stomach. The house is quiet. He turns his head toward me. I catch him staring. I laugh. "What?"
He shrugs. "Nothing. You're pretty."
I snort. "Okay. You're just soft now 'cause your balls are empty." He gasps, dramatic. "Excuse you. I'm always soft with you, dude. Look at me. I'm literally your best friend, your partner AND your biggest fan."
I grin. "I know. That's true. But you can't say I'm not yours too. Well, I don't get to be covered in tattoos like you, cause of work, but everything people don't see is full of your ink. Because I love your work."
He smiles proudly. Then his phone buzzes. He picks it up, squints at the screen. "Our matchmakers. Guess the parents are here to collect their spawn."
He laughs and pushes himself off the floor. I get up, head to the door, open it.
Aw, there's Rava. Looking like he… survived a war.
Behind him, Gio. Glowing like he started one.
"What happened?" I ask.
Rava exhales. "Nothing. Everything's perfect." He walks past me, and Gio laughs. He looks proud as hell.
He leans in. "We finally had sex. He came in two minutes and he's pissed, because he wanted more." I slap a hand over my mouth, laughing. "I get it. Sometimes, you go to war and lose. Just means the dick was good."
Gio grins. "I know. That's why I'm smiling."
We walk into the bedroom where Antonio's asleep. Gio bends down, scoops him up slowly.
"Come here, little bean," he whispers. Meanwhile, Rava and Noah are in the kitchen, packing up Antonio's tiny backpack and leftover toys.
"How was he?" Gio asks.